


Embrace

by dreamer_98



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Background Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamer_98/pseuds/dreamer_98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chandler attempts to comfort Kent after the loss of a loved one, he reveals more about himself than he planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Embrace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carriemac (carolinga)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinga/gifts).



> Written for **carriemac** , who requested a focus on Chandler and Kent’s relationship and for cuddles to be involved. I hope this fits the bill! My eternal gratitude to **saizine** for all of the immensely helpful suggestions.

Something was wrong with Kent.

Chandler didn’t notice at first. He was conducting a team briefing when Kent stepped out of the incident room, his phone pressed against his ear. Chandler pursed his lips in annoyance. It was an unspoken rule for the team not to take personal calls while on duty. He expected Mansell or even Riley would disregard the rule, but not Kent. When Kent returned, Chandler gave him a stern look of disapproval before proceeding with the briefing. He didn’t take heed of Kent’s sullen expression.

He began to sense something was off afterwards when he called Kent into his office to assign him a report. Kent’s usual wide-eyed enthusiasm was noticeably absent. He merely mumbled “Yes sir” before quickly exiting the office. Chandler thought his behaviour was peculiar, but he was too preoccupied with work to think much of it.

Later that afternoon, Chandler entered the gentleman’s room to clean up after an inquiry in a particularly seedy bar. He had just turned on the sink tap when he heard what sounded like someone sniffling. He looked behind him and saw a pair of feet peeking out underneath the stall door. From the cut of trousers and the style of shoes, he could tell it was Kent.

Chandler finally began to register Kent’s odd behaviour from earlier; he must have received some upsetting news over the phone. Chandler mentally chastised himself. He hadn’t intended to come across as callous, but it was only because he didn’t take personal matters into account.

He slowly approached the stall, debating whether to knock and ask Kent if he was okay. Eventually, he decided to let Kent have his privacy before turning around and quietly exiting the toilets.

After the day’s shift ended and Chandler was preparing to leave for the evening, he noticed a light was on in the incident room. This was odd; he thought everyone else had left hours ago. He opened the office door to find Kent at his desk, typing away on the computer.

“What are you still doing here?” Chandler asked as he stood in the doorway.

“Just finishing up that report you gave me earlier,” Kent responded, not taking his eyes off the screen. “I’m almost finished.”

Chandler frowned. “It’s nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” Even in the faint glow of the computer monitor, Chandler could see Kent’s eyes were red and puffy from crying.

He knew he had no right to pry into Kent’s personal business, but Chandler rationalised that he needed to know if the DC would still be able to do his job. Deep down, however, he was genuinely worried about Kent. Ever since Chandler took over as DI, he had formed a strong bond with Kent. He was one of his most trusted and reliable detectives. Whenever Chandler doubted himself, Kent was always there with words of encouragement. Now Chandler wanted to reciprocate his kindness.

He stepped forwarded tentatively. “That phone call you took this morning. Did… did something happen?”

Kent stopped typing. He didn’t look up at Chandler, but he gave a small nod. Chandler pulled up a chair from a nearby desk and sat down a few feet away from him.

“I know I’m your boss," he said gently, "but I hope you feel comfortable enough to talk to me if something is bothering you. You don’t have to go into detail, but I am here to listen.”

Kent took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It’s my auntie,” he finally said. “She passed away this morning.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Chandler said, his voice soft and sympathetic. “You have my condolences.”

“Thank you,” Kent said simply. His head was turned away, half-shrouded in darkness, so Chandler was unable to see his expression from where he sat.

“Were you very close with her?” Chandler asked, hoping it would prompt Kent to talk more. He tried to walk the fine line of not being too intrusive but still showing his concern.

Kent nodded. “She helped raise me and my sister after my dad left. She was like a second mother.” He paused before continuing, “She’d been ill for a while, but I hadn’t been round to see her much. I always made up some excuse; I was busy with work, I had plans to go out with my mates. The truth is… I was scared to see her. I didn’t want to face the fact that I was losing her,” his voice wavered, “and now she’s gone.”

Chandler was unsure of what to do next. As much as he wanted to comfort Kent, he knew he wasn’t the most graceful person when it came to emotional situations. He didn’t have the same ease as Miles or Riley when they talked to distressed witnesses. Chandler was afraid he would say the wrong thing, and he didn’t want to upset Kent any further.

“You can take some time off,” Chandler told him. “I don’t expect you to work under these circumstances.”

Kent shook his head. “No, it’s all right. I need to keep busy. It’ll help take my mind off it.”

Chandler sighed. “I used to think that way,” he said quietly. He said it more to himself than to Kent, but he was still heard.

Kent turned towards Chandler, a curious look on his face. “What do you mean?”

Chandler was caught off-guard by Kent’s response to his remark. He hesitated before he tried to explain, “When my father died, I was very young, but even then I had this… sense of responsibility. I became the man of the house, in a way. I kept myself so busy that I didn’t have time to grieve.”

Kent looked at him intently. “I didn’t know about your dad,” he said.

Chandler tried to shrug it off. “I don’t really like talking about him.”

He hoped he didn’t appear as uncomfortable as he felt. He hadn’t expected this turn of direction in the conversation. Although he desperately wanted to change the topic, Chandler saw that he now had Kent’s full attention. Miles was always encouraging him to be more open with others. Maybe this was his chance to try it.

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I spent my entire youth trying to measure up to my father. I wanted to be as good of a detective as he was. I studied hard, took all the courses, read the training manuals cover to cover. All I wanted was to make him proud. It wasn’t until years later that I realised how isolated I was from everyone else. I didn’t have any friends, and I barely spoke with the family I had left.”

He paused, embarrassed. Chandler would never have dreamed of speaking so candidly about his past to anyone, let alone a colleague. He glanced over at Kent. He was looking down at his desk, absently straightening various objects. Despite his own discomfort, Chandler knew it was important that he continue to speak frankly. He saw a lot of himself in Kent, and Chandler feared that he might end up the same way. He didn't want that for him.

“I know your situation is different,” Chandler said, “but the point I’m trying to make is that working to escape your grief isn’t the best solution. Don’t do what I did and shut yourself away from other people.”

Kent remained silent for a while, gathering himself before releasing a shaky breath. “It’s just… I try to be professional. You’ve always told us to leave our personal matters at home, so I didn’t bother anyone here about it. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You haven’t,” Chandler insisted. “I’m sorry for being harsh with you earlier. If I’d known what was going on, I would have been more understanding.”

If it had been any other time or another member of the team, Chandler probably wouldn’t have been ready to admit it, but in that moment, he was feeling particularly bold. He reached out across the desk and gently placed his hand on Kent’s arm. “I know it’s hard to tell at times, but I do care about you." Kent looked up at him. “The whole team does,” Chandler added. “Miles, Buchan, Riley, even Mansell. We’ll all be there to support you if you need us.”

Chandler could see Kent’s eyes were welled with tears. “I guess I already knew that,” Kent said hoarsely, “but hearing you say it… it means a lot.” He quickly turned his head away, covering his face with his hand.

Chandler wasn’t sure how best to react. He wanted to hug Kent, but part of him nagged that it would be inappropriate. He decided to disregard his conscience and scooted closer to Kent, hesitating before gently placing his arm around the younger man’s back.

A soft sob escaped Kent’s lips, his body shaking as the tears started to fall down his face. “It’s all right,” Chandler murmured soothingly. Before he knew what was happening, Chandler found Kent’s head buried in his shoulder.

Chandler almost flinched at the unexpected contact, but he successfully repressed the urge to pull away. _This is what normal people do to comfort others_ , he reminded himself. His position was extremely stiff, his arms awkwardly grasped around Kent. He closed his eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. After a few moments, Chandler began to relax into the embrace. With his free hand, he reached up and began to stroke Kent's soft, curly hair. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him to be so close to another person. It was perhaps the most intimate situation he’d ever been in. Chandler thought he wouldn't like it, but he had to admit to himself that it wasn't so bad.

Kent’s tears eventually subsided, his breath returning to a slow, steady pace. When he looked up at Chandler and seemed to process what had happened, he blushed. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered as he extracted himself from Chandler’s arms. “Now I’ve gone and ruined your suit.” He indicated the large, wet blob on Chandler’s shoulder.

“It’s not a problem,” Chandler said. In truth, he was internally panicking about the stain, but he did his best to appear nonchalant. “It wasn’t one of my favourites, anyway.” His comment managed to elicit a weak chuckle out of Kent. “Go home and get some rest,” he instructed him. “You can take off as much time as you need.”

Kent managed a grateful nod before turning to gather his belongings from his desk. Chandler stood and headed towards his office, itching to change into a new shirt. He stopped in his tracks when he remembered something: Kent's motorbike. Chandler had never approved of that particular mode of transport. Although Kent was less distraught than he had been moments before, Chandler worried about him driving home on it so late in the evening.

He turned around to see Kent walking towards the door. “Wait,” he called to him. “Let me give you a lift home. I can ask one of the officers to return your bike tomorrow.”

For the first time that day, a small smile appeared on Kent’s face. “Thank you, sir. That’d be great.” Chandler returned the smile before retrieving his coat and briefcase.

“You know,” he said as they walked to the car park, “when we’re off duty, you can call me Joe.”

“Okay… _Joe_.” Kent chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, that’s going to take a bit of getting used to.”

“May I call you Emerson, then?”

“Yeah, or just Em is fine. Just please don’t call me Emmy. My sister does that and it drives me mad.” The two men laughed, continuing to chat on their way to the car.

Chandler didn’t have many friends in his life. While he could effortlessly present the details of an investigation to a room full of officers, he struggled with relating to people one-on-one. He thought his career would involve nothing more than him sitting alone in an office doing paperwork, his only social interaction being the occasional function where he could plaster a smile on his face and make small talk. Yet since becoming the DI at Whitechapel, he’d been thrust out into the field and required to work closely with the other detectives. He had kept to himself at first, but gradually he found himself growing closer to the members of his team. His father would say it was unprofessional to get emotionally involved with colleagues. Chandler often had to shake off that voice in his head. As challenging and frustrating as the job could be, he had come to love his slightly dysfunctional yet dedicated and supportive team. They became the family he never had. The idea of opening himself up to other people was still daunting, but he was learning to embrace it.


End file.
